


(Not) a hero

by Servena



Category: Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: Anti-Hero, Friendship, Gen, Heroism, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 20:26:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14088996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Servena/pseuds/Servena
Summary: "I'm not a hero." Only the world didn't seem to care.





	(Not) a hero

“I’m not a hero.” She couldn’t remember how many times she had told this to anyone who would listen (and a lot that wouldn’t), it wasn’t like she had bothered to count, but it had to be enough times to make her stance on this whole heroism-thing clear. Only nobody seemed to care, and the world itself seemed keen to throw her into every possible hero-needing situation to prove her wrong.

Guy with a gun trying to rob a liquor store? Guess who had run out of whiskey an hour before and was currently browsing the aisle with the good stuff she couldn’t afford. (The owner wasn’t even grateful when she saved his ass – if your life isn’t even worth a bottle of good whiskey to you, you should reconsider your life choices.)

Little kid about to run in front of a car? This one didn’t even take superpowers, just a quick grab at the kid’s hoodie, so why did it have to be her? And then the mother wouldn’t stop crying and tried to invite her for dinner at least six times. Too bad you couldn’t turn lifelong gratitude into money.

Cute little kitten sitting in the branches of a very high tree? A guy trying to steal the handbag of an old lady in the middle of the day? Another guy getting his hands on a young girl on the subway late at night? You named it, she had been there. (Also it turned out that cute kittens still had pretty sharp claws. Who even lets a kitten out of their apartment in the middle of New York City? Though throwing the perv against the wall with a little more force than necessary had been slightly fun at least.)

“I’m done”, she said when she arrived at Trish’s place after the latest encounter. “I’m moving.”

“Where to?” Trish asked out of the kitchen, where she was preparing what she called a super smoothie and Jessica called “liquid vegetables with the color of vomit”.

She flopped down onto the fancy designer couch and resisted the urge to put her boot clad feet up as well. “Somewhere with less people trying to get themselves killed. Or anyone else killed. Even better, no people at all. Just a hut in the middle of nowhere with an Internet connection. Can you get booze by mail?”

The sound of the mixer drowned out everything for a moment. After Trish had turned it off again, she answered: “Trust me, you can get anything by mail these days. But I bet you’d find a cow to haul out of a ditch somewhere.”

She sighed. “A superhero for cattle, yay me.”

When Trish stepped out of the kitchen with a big glass with questionable green content, she sat up to make space on the couch. She wrinkled her nose. “What the hell even _is_ that?”

“It’s a green smoothie with lettuce, spinach and kale. It contains lots of vitamins the body needs. Want to try?” Trish held out the glass.

She leaned back. “Thanks, I think I’d rather die of scurvy.”

“Suit yourself.” Then Trish picked up the conversation: “Anyway, it’s also not like you can do your job in the middle of nowhere. It kinda only works with people.”

“I hate my job.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do. I just hate it less than any other job I ever had.” She watched in disgust as Trish drained the glass of its green content.

Trish set the glass down on the coffee table. “Okay, point taken. But maybe you should just embrace it.”

“If you even get near me with another one of your costumes, Trish, I swear to god…”

“That’s not what I mean. But you could still help people.”

“I hate people. “ Trish opened her mouth again, but she continued: “Just face it, Trish, I’m never gonna be a hero. That’s just not me.”

They were interrupted by the vibrating of a phone. She patted down her jacket pockets, but apparently she had left hers on the desk. “It’s yours.”

Trish sat up to pull her phone from the pocket of her pants. She switched it on and took a look at the screen. “Actually, I think you already are.”

“What?” Jessica leaned forward and Trish showed her the phone. The headline “Jessica Jones stops robbery, saves a man’s life” stared back at her.

“A hero”, Trish said.

She let her head fall back against the back rest with a thud. “Oh, fuck me.”


End file.
